


"Stupidity of Man"

by Yui1ss



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Broken Bones, Established Relationship, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Not Beta Read, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29332746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yui1ss/pseuds/Yui1ss
Summary: Sometimes Tim forgot just how painfully human he was. He forgot it the first time Damian asked him to pose for one of his drawings and forgot it once more when Damian allowed him to see his unfinished sketches. Half painted smiles, clear blue eyes and the curve of his body captured so beautifully on the paper he could swear the man depicted in the drawings was some sort of god or, at least, a much better version of himself.But there were moments where his mortality slapped him across the face.or, Tim is chasing a criminal through the streets of Gotham when he makes a mistake that can easily end his life.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Damian Wayne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 73





	"Stupidity of Man"

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be less than 500 words wtf happened here.  
> Warnings (with slight spoilers):  
> Character falls from high altitude, character hyperventilates because of fear gas, descriptions of pain and injuries, broken bones, ear injury, back injury.  
> Let me know if there is anything else that should get a trigger warning.

Sometimes Tim forgot just how painfully human he was.

He forgot it when he was out with the Young Justice, fighting side by side with beings far stronger than him and somehow still being a fundamental part of his team, he knew he could trust them with his life and was glad that they could trust him with theirs. Forgot it whenever he closed a particularly hard case and stood on the rooftops overlooking Gotham city, his city, the city he protected with each and every cell in his body every night and day of his life. Forgot it when he leapt from one building to another and felt the wind telling him he could fly. Forgot it the first time Damian asked him to pose for one of his drawings and forgot it once more when Damian allowed him to see his unfinished sketches. Half painted smiles, clear blue eyes and the curve of his body captured so beautifully on the paper he could swear the man depicted in the drawings was some sort of god or, at least, a much better version of himself. And when he looked into Damian's eyes and saw the vulnerability displayed in them Tim couldn't help but feel invincible at being the one Damian Wayne chose to devote his heart to.

And there were moments in between. When he wasn't quite sure he felt human or not. Moments when Bruce praised him and told him how proud he was and Tim felt like he could defeat Superman himself or maybe just curl in a little ball on the floor and cry for five hours straight. Moments just before the dawn of a new day when it was still dark enough for him to hide in the shadows of the city, but he could already hear the hard-working people of Gotham beginning to stir in their beds and move around in their homes. Moments when Damian caught him off guard with a kiss or a simple brush of their hands and Tim felt like electricity was running through his veins and he had to choose between fleeing the scene like a scared cat or returning the affections.

And there were moments where his mortality slapped him across the face.

There was an Arkham breakout and the whole family was scattered in the streets around Arkham Asylum trying to contain the criminals and evacuate the area. Red Robin had been helping some people get out of their building when he spotted a group of weirdly dressed people running towards that area and wreaking havoc in their way. He tells the civilians to head for the opposite direction and goes over to the group to stop them. The fight is fairly simple, Tim wastes no time in arresting them and tying them up together for the GCPD to collect, but they had been carrying gas bombs of different varieties that Red Robin had to be extra careful not to inhale when some exploded at his feet. If it was fear gas Tim thought he could fight through the fear, but Joker gas would definitely take him out of the fight.

When he is finishing tying them up, Tim sees a criminal dressed in similar clothes to the ones Tim had just fought running towards the direction the civilians had escaped to and carrying enough gas bombs to affect an entire block.

“Ugh, long day.” Tim sighs and begins to chase the criminal.

The streets were empty, but he can see some eyes through the windows of homes of people who refused to leave even in the face of a threat, it is still daylight and their watchful gaze sends chills down his spine. So, Tim decides to climb up a building and continue his chase through the rooftops, he could avoid the glares and would probably have a better view of the streets to assess the situation.

Grappling hook secured on one of the smaller buildings, he climbs up in seconds and is already running and jumping to another roof when he spots a cloud of smoke. The criminal was gas bombing something or someone not too far ahead.

His next jump is good, his feet kick against the rooftop and he is soaring through the air in a perfect form. He pays half a mind to preparing for the impact of landing, calculating how far away he still was from the criminal. In the last second though, with his toes angled slightly upwards so the balls of his feet could make contact first, Tim realizes he fucked up. The building was a few inches further than he initially thought and his feet barely connect with the edge of the roof, and do so in an extremely painful way. He tries to throw his weight forward so the fall can happen towards the building and not the street bellow, but his unstable footing coupled with the sudden soaring pain in his left leg don’t allow for much movement and he feels himself falling backwards.

It was fine, no problem, he would just use his grappling gun to hang to the side of the building.

But when he closes his hand around the gun, he feels the pain of an impact against his back. The building had a set of stairs attached to the side and Tim had hit the railing hard. His fall is slowed down by the hit and he manages to attach his grappling hook to the metal railing of the stairs in a desperate move, but the pain on his back is blindingly strong and he can barely hold on to the cord keeping him alive before properly attaching it to his belt.

The cord ends two meters above the ground and pulls painfully against his waist, leaving him hanging at an extremely awkward angle. Breathing hard and shaking all over, he detaches the cord from his waist and falls the last two meters, hitting the ground with a muffled thud and a groan of pain.

Tim allows himself a moment to breathe, to take in all the pain and the sliver of the bright blue sky above him. And then he is back to work.

He knows he shouldn't move his head or his limbs too much, to prevent causing any more damage to his spine. He checks to see if he can still move his toes and fingers and is relieved when doing so only causes a mild tingling in his back muscles. The left foot is the worst though. Trying to move it causes incredible pain to shoot up his leg and Tim files that under “most likely broken”.

Woah, the human body is wack. Banging his spine against a railing and then falling to the ground caused a lot of pain, but apparently nothing broken, while just stepping on the ledge of a building in a slightly wrong way broke his foot. Wack.

Tim tries to find a way to turn on his comm links with minimal movement, in case his spine was actually broken, to ask for help or at least have someone call an ambulance for him. There were spots on his vision and he was feeling dizzy. He couldn't tell what part of the city he was in, his mind starting to get foggy with the pain and now he couldn't even remember why he was out in the streets in the first place. Trying to move his arm up to his ear made the spots darken until all his vision was obscured and all his other senses dulled out until he felt nothing else as he passed out.

When he came to, his instincts instantly told him to be alert. He isn’t alone.

He keeps his eyes closed for fear that by opening them to the light of the day his head would hurt even more and he would feel dizzy and pass out again. He doesn't even know if it is still daytime. Fuck.

He hears movement behind him. He wants to turn his head, get on his feet, defend himself. But he can't. He wants to scream for help, but his throat is closed around a sob of fear that he was trying to keep silenced inside him.

And then he hears the person again. Breathing heavily and slowly moving towards him.

He hears his name, whispered softly and desperately somewhere close. Tim is so relieved to hear Damian calling out to him he could have cried. But as it was all he could manage was to release the breath he had been holding.

The person - Damian - drops to his knees next to Tim's torso. Before Tim can say anything though, any teasing remark about his own incompetence that young Damian used to chastise him for, Damian begins to hyperventilate.

“No, no, no, no, no, Drake, please, no.” His voice is broken and, oh, so scared.

Tim is taken aback by the strong reaction Damian was having and stays quiet for a moment.

He feels Damian touching his shoulder, softly, as if he was scared Tim could disappear with the wind.

“This isn't real, this is not real. Please. Tell me this is not real, Tim.”

And Tim remembers the bomb that went off when he was running through the roofs. The criminal had been fighting someone. They had been fighting Damian. And the bomb was filled with fear gas. Damian is probably having an internal battle, thinking that Tim - laying almost dead on the ground, - is just a figment of his drugged-up imagination.

The hand on his shoulder tightens just a bit and Tim gathers up all his strength to mutter his lover's name.

Damian begins to sob and lowers his forehead over Tim's shoulder. He isn't listening. Too lost on his own fears and his own demons.

Tim tries again. Eyes still closed. He focuses on the weight of Damian's head against his shoulder.

Damian being open and showing Tim his true feelings has always made Tim feel invincible. Pain be damned. Damian needs him. Breathing in and out he calls his name again.

“Damian, it's okay.” He feels more than hears Damian's small gasp. The boy's hands shaking where they are connected to Tim's body.

“I need you to focus on what is real, I am real, I am hurt.” At that Damian starts shaking harder. “I need you to call someone to help us.”

Fighting through a whimper, Damian says “I think my comm is broken. Probably broke when I was fighting. My ear hurts,” his voice gets shaky and he has to take a deep breath before continuing, “but I can still hear fine, I heard you, when you fell. I came as soon as I could, but, but- “

“It's okay, you're here now. You can take my comm, it should be intact in my right ear, I can't reach it, but you can.” Talking is making him exhausted and he feels his chest constricting his breath.

Tim hears Damian taking a few deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and out. Then he lifts his head from Tim's shoulder and steadies his hands against his own thighs before slowly caressing Tim's face and detaching the comm device from Tim's ear with all the care and gentleness he could spare in this situation. Taking the comm in one hand, Damian keeps the other gently caressing Tim's cheek.

Everything on Tim's body hurt, and yet, that small point of contact was everything his mind could pay attention to. Tim feels himself drifting again, lost in the safety of his family's touch.

“Hey, you shouldn't sleep. We don't know the extent of your injuries.” Damian's voice is still shaky, but he sounded more like himself now. “Don't make me pinch your cheeks, Drake”

Tim would have laughed if it didn't hurt to do so.

He tries to open his eyes and the bright light blinds him momentarily, the dizzy feeling coming back tenfold. He faintly hears Damian whispering something, but can't make out the words. There is no stopping himself from passing out again.

The rest of the day goes by in a haze. He vaguely remembers the ambulance ride, lots of braces attached to his neck and torso as he was lifted and taken somewhere else. He remembers Damian, not letting go of him not even once.

When Tim wakes again, he is in the hospital wing of the cave, which consists of a fully equipped ICU bed for extreme situations and three other regular beds equipped for minor cases. There is a cervical-thoracic brace restricting his movements and his left leg is wrapped in a cast and resting above a pillow, but he is laying on one of the regular beds so he guesses his situation might be stable for now and not as bad as he originally thought. Still pretty bad to have to wear a brace that restricts the movement of his upper back and neck though.

Damian is laying on Tim's bed next to him, with some distance between them, there is a bandage wrapped around his head protecting his left ear and he is sleeping softly, though there is still a little crease between his brows that betrays the fact that the fear gas is still messing around in Damian's system.

Tim can't properly see his face because of the brace on his neck, but Damian feels him stir and wakes up with a sharp intake of breath. When he realizes where he is, Damian relaxes again and sits up on the bed so Tim can see him better.

He looks down at Tim with annoyance in his eyes “You absolutely careless idiot.” And then, softer, “I thought you were dead.”

Tim has no answer ready for that so Damian continues.

“I called the family after you passed out, Barbara called Doctor Thompkins and she arranged an ambulance for us, secretly took you to the hospital and made some exams. You have a stable fracture on your upper back and a broken foot. You're going to be wearing the brace and cast for a while.”

Tim groans, but he already expected it. He is lucky to have gotten away with just a stable fracture. Just the thought of how everything could have gone worse makes him shiver.

Damian looks at him in worry. “Are you cold? Would you like me to get a blanket?”

Tim goes to shake his head, but the brace stops any neck movement so he just sighs in defeat.

“No, I'm fine.”

The worry doesn't leave Damian's face so he thinks of something else to say to distract him from the fear toxin working on his brain.

“Hm, I wonder what the family thought about you sleeping next to me.” Tim says smugly.

Damian huffs angrily, “They thought I was under the effects of fear toxin and had just watched you nearly die. Which isn't untrue.” Damian gives him a condescending look, before his eyes lose some of their sharpness. “We live in a family of emotionally constipated idiots. They are blind to that which they do not want to see, Timothy. I, for one, couldn't care less what they think about us.”

Tim knew that was a lie. His father's opinion was very important to Damian, as well as Dick's, if not even more important. But Tim indulged him on this little lie by not mentioning it.

“Do I look stupid with the brace on?”

“You look stupid even without it, so what is new?”

“Pff, shut up.”

The light of laughter is slowly filling Damian's eyes again and Tim feels a lot better. Maybe it's the painkillers working on his body, but he feels light and peaceful.

“I bet you don't wanna draw me anymore, now that I look like a train just hit me.”

“I am going to paint you like this, I'll name the painting 'Stupidity of Man'.”

Tim gives him his biggest smile yet and then reaches for him with his arms.

Damian takes Tim's hands in his and caresses his fingers. He brings Tim's right hand up to his mouth and kisses each finger, one by one, and then kisses the back of his hand. The tiny kisses send small shivers up Tim's arm. Then Damian lifts his left hand and begins the same treatment.

Tim uses his now free right hand to touch the bandage over Damian's left ear.

“What happened here?”

Damian lowers their entwined hands and says, “The comm shattered in my ear when a guy exploded the fear toxin bomb right next to my head. No permanent damage though.”

“Ouch.” He says, lamely.

“Very eloquently put, Timothy” Damian smirks.

If Tim hadn't been trapped in a constricting brace he would have pounced on Damian and kissed him to get that smirk off his face.

Damian senses that is the case and his smirk grows into a full smile.

“You're gonna make me ask for it, huh?” Tim sighs.

Damian raises one eyebrow and waits.

Tim huffs and rolls his eyes. “Just come down here and kiss me already!”

“Hm, I'm not sure I want to. Not with that attitude.”

Tim gasps in mild annoyance and surprise and wishes he could kick him right in the face.

They have a little staring contest before Tim realizes he doesn't care much about having the upper hand against Damian in this situation, although admitting it to himself makes him a little angry. Years of rivalry die hard.

“Please, kiss me.”

Saying it is worth it for the look of surprise on Damian's face at such a straightforward request.

“Well, since you're asking so nicely.”

Damian's left hand comes up to hold his face while the other hand holds him up against the bed, his thumb traces Tim's bottom lip and then Damian is kissing him, gently but surely. The kiss is sweet and pure, just a press of lips against lips. And it feels so entirely human, to get lost on Damian's lips, to get lost on the way he is being held so softly. Feels so entirely exposed, feelings on the edge of his skin for Damian to see and to touch and to taste. Feels ticklish. He never wants this feeling to go away.

Damian pulls back a second too soon.

Tim breathes in deeply, “I'm gonna need you to kiss me like that all the time until I'm all healed up.”

“And after you're healed up?”

“Then I'll beat your ass for making me beg.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to point out any mistakes, this work is not proofread and english is not my first language.


End file.
